


my body is a temple; how much you think I could get for it

by interropunct



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Ace Subtype: Mostly No But Sometimes Yes, Canon Asexual Character, Fat Martin Blackwood, Internalized Fatphobia, M/M, Relationship Discussions, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Martin Blackwood, not beta read because I wrote this in like two hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:15:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25606471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interropunct/pseuds/interropunct
Summary: Martin has been gaining weightin quarantineat the safehouse and he kind of wants to talk to Jon about it.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 29
Kudos: 241





	my body is a temple; how much you think I could get for it

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is me, a fat trans ace neurodivergent person, working through some thoughts and projecting like a champ all over Martin and Jon and personally I think that’s very sexy of me. This is also the first TMA fic I’m posting (although I’m working on a few more) so hi, hello, pleased to meet you!

Martin is always aware that, by virtue of genetics, poverty-impacted cooking and eating patterns, and likely helped along by fad dieting in his teens and early twenties, he enters every room belly first. He hasn’t yet found it in himself to love this fact, but he has accepted it. Martin knows he’s fat and he knows, although still mentally shies away from acknowledging, that other people know he’s fat too. The bulky sweaters, the bright pink dyed hair (As his mother had said when he first tried it: “It’s hideous, but at least it draws the eye away from the rest.”) don’t really hide this fact.

He knows that body hate is passé now. Or at least that lots of people and companies like to pretend that it is while secretly still buoying it up. But he still can’t quite manage to rid himself of the little mean voice in his head that loves to criticize the way he looks. Martin is self-aware; he knows he’s not overburdened with a strong sense of self-worth in general. So it makes sense that self-love and internalizing body positivity is a bit beyond him.

The self-worth issue at least has gotten better, since leaving the Institute and coming to Daisy’s cabin. Mostly because of Jon: loving Jon, being loved by him. If the force of Jon’s feelings for him and his for Jon can defeat Peter Lukas and the Lonely, Martin’s little self-esteem issues should be nothing.

Of course, it’s not quite that easy in practice.

“Jon?” Martin asks, “Did you and Georgie ever have sex?”

He winces at himself as soon as it’s out of his mouth, expecting Jon to splutter and blush at the sudden intimate question. Instead Jon just hummed into his tea, and looked thoughtful for a second before turning away from the BBC miniseries they’d been watching on the small laptop screen.

“Not generally, but a few times, yes. Why?”

It’s Martin’s chance to blush instead, and he does, realizing now how difficult it’s going to be to explain his train of thought.

“It’s just… I’m gaining weight and-” Martin suppresses another wince. This is a bad way to start. 

Jon looks deeply confused and a little pained as he tries not to simply Know what Martin means.

“What--?” Jon starts, but Martin throws caution to the wind.

“It’s just the safehouse, y’know, it means staying inside most of the time. And we go for walks, you know about those obviously, you’re there on them. But still not much exercise, plus the home cooking. Which of course I love! I love your cooking. But it’s a bit more than I’m used to. And also just everything tastes better now, after the Lonely—I kind of wasn’t eating very much for a while there, just didn’t really give a shit about feeding myself, ‘cause of everything, but yeah—so I know now I overindulge a bit. Anyway, not like we’ve got a scale here, and I avoid them anyway when I can. But I can tell my pants aren’t fitting quite the same so I know I’ve put on a bit-”

“Martin, I don’t-”

“Sorry, sorry, yeah point is: I know you and Georgie dated, and I’ve met Georgie a few times and she’s… well, bigger. Fat. Whatever. She’s got a body shape like mine. Except, well, still with boobs. And I’d, unrelatedly you know, heard from Basira that Georgie told Melanie that you and she—Georgie, not Melanie—didn’t do _that_. Sex, that is. And we’ve never talked about it and of course there are all sorts of reasons not to have sex with someone you’re dating but I wanted to know if it was related to that. The weight thing. If it’s just not your cup of tea, maybe, fat people. And if not, that’s totally fine! I’d be happy to _not_ , if that’s your preference, y’know. I like to change in the bathroom anyway, before bed, so hopefully I don’t make you feel weird with that. Being with you, anything, with you, is perfect, lovely. I was just wondering, I s’pose, if me gaining weight, well, bothers you?”

Finally, blessedly, the stumbling words stop and Martin is left to feel his entire burning face and tingling hands and twisting stomach without any distractions but the deathly silence.

“Oh, oh, Martin, that’s-”

Jon looks concerned, face pinched and eyes soft and Martin feels his embarrassment curdling in his chest.

“Don’t- Jon, don’t _pity_ me.” He spits out the word. “And don’t say something you don’t mean because you feel guilty, or like you should- It’s fine. I mean it. It’s all fi-”

“Martin,” Jon’s voice is also sharp, even as he slides his free hand so gently into Martin’s. The next words are soft. “Shut up. I let you speak. Now let me have a turn.”

Martin looks down at their joined hands. Jon squeezes tighter. Martin nods silently, glances back at Jon out of the edge of his vision.

Jon looks thoughtful, determined. It’s one of his more common expressions and one of Martin’s many favorites.

“There’s a lot to unpack there.” Martin doesn’t think about how many times his mother scolded him for talking her ear off about one topic or another. That’s not what Jon means and Martin knows it, refuses to misconstrue even when a nasty voice in his head wants him to.

“Georgie and I, our relationship, was complicated. In a number of ways. Sex not least of them. I have what you could call a complex relationship with sex in general. Although I guess most everyone does… everything is about sex, except sex which is- god, not the point. It’s just, I enjoy sex well enough, when the person and the time and a dozen other factors that I’m not even fully aware of are all just right. And I’ve got an average sex drive. Not as high as when I first started testosterone, but it’s still there. But I don’t often crave sex with someone, if that makes sense. Not when I had a partner and certainly never with some stranger. However, as I said, I can enjoy it when it happens on the right terms. It’s more that it doesn’t occur to me, most of the time. Like taking a bath. I’m so used to not taking baths regularly that even those times it would be quite nice to take a bath it doesn’t really occur to me that that’s something that might be nice. In any case, all of that is to say that nothing about my and Georgie’s sex life, or lack thereof, had anything to do with my having any issue whatsoever with Georgie’s body. I find all sorts of body types beautiful and, more to the point, find you very beautiful, Martin. Or very handsome, if you prefer. I would love to have sex with you, at your current weight or any other, because you’re attractive and I love you.”

Martin takes a long time to process this, so long that Jon says, as though suddenly thinking of it:

“Oh, and the bit about changing in the other room. Do what makes you feel comfortable, of course, but naked bodies don’t bother me in the slightest. And yours is lovely. Okay, I’m done I think. If you’d like to speak now.”

Martin kind of bobs his head noncommittally. He’s trying to digest Jon’s description of his relationship to sex but his heart keeps getting stuck on the bit about Jon him beautiful, lovely, saying he would love to have sex with him. It’s all just a lot to take in just then. 

“Thank you,” Martin says eventually, “for all of that.”

“So, that’s alright?”

Martin frowns for a second, puzzled.

“Wha- oh, the bit about not really wanting or initiating sex very much? Yeah, Jon, of course. I didn’t- I trust you not to make an excuse not to have sex with me. I’m sorry I- I’m sorry I insinuated otherwise. And I’m never going to pressure you to have sex more or at times when you don’t want to. If, sometime, it occurs to you that ‘oh well, I’d like to have a bath,’ then I’ll be here.”

Jon exhales slowly, a tiny bit shaky, and Martin realizes that he wasn’t the only one on edge in this conversation. It makes something huge and soft and wonderful well up inside Martin.

“And I think, some time when a bath seems nice, that I’d like to try it. With you. I- may I kiss you?”

“Now?” Jon doesn’t sound put out about it.

“I- yes, ideally. Or later if that’s b-”

Jon kisses him. With one hand still holding his tea and the other clutched in Martin’s slightly sweaty hand, Jon just leans in and presses their lips together. Martin freezes and then shivers as he melts into the touch. It feels like walking into a place he’d never been and knowing immediately that he’s home.

In that moment, every inch of his insides, bone and organ and rolls of fat, is filled with love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I know there are several walls of dialogue verging on monologue in this fic but honestly that’s just is how me and my autistic/ADHD friends actually talk so I’m sticking to it. Also, I’m thinking about writing a second part of this where sex happens, we'll see.


End file.
